


Emergency Contact

by boogers



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Angst, Hospitals, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 20:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18924133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boogers/pseuds/boogers
Summary: “So, why the fuck am I your primary emergency contact? Oh, and why were you driving a car drunk in an alley? It sounds like the time we tried to stage a fake suicide. You weren’t trying to kill yourself, were you? There are so many better ways to do that.”Mac takes Charlie home after he crashes a car.(this is a rewrite of an old fic!!!)





	Emergency Contact

**Author's Note:**

> i rewrote a fic from a year or two ago, so if it looks familiar thats why. its the same plot and shares some scenes with the older one but it's a pretty different story overall
> 
> warnings: car accidents, suicide, blood/injury mentions, smoking, heavy drinking

Mac had been without Dennis for two and a half weeks now, which, compared to being constantly at his side for nearly two and a half decades, was an eternity to him.

It had been a particularly long day, a Thursday spent watching every movie in the _The Fast and the Furious_ franchise, alone on his couch chain smoking and drinking. Too miserable and not nearly drunk enough after movie five, he vaguely remembered that Dennis used to keep aged whiskey in one of their rarely-used cabinets. As the movie’s credits music began, Mac got up to look in the suspecting cabinet to find it empty, save for several layers of dust on all sides. He continued to rummage through every cabinet in the apartment in hopes it may have been moved but unfortunately, they were all nearly bare.

Dennis had managed to take everything he could from Mac and leave him alone without resources to cope with the abandonment. He had made his way through the first three stages of grief quickly and was now stuck in Depression, much to the rest of the gang’s inconvenience, as he was no help at Paddy’s in his current condition. He wasn’t sure if anyone would be there now, at two in the morning on a Thursday (now Friday, technically), but he did know that regardless, there would be alcohol.

He grabbed his duster and a CD off his bedstand before calling a cab to take him to the bar. When it arrived at Paddy's, he stumbled out of the car to find the front door locked. He was relieved to not have to deal with the remainder of the gang’s bullshit, but he didn’t have his key to the bar with him. He snuck around to the back where anyone passing by couldn’t see him break into a bar during the night, and climbed into a small window in the bathroom. He was impressed with his flexibility until he slipped on a wet spot on the ground and fell on his ass. He made a mental note to hound Charlie for not cleaning that spot and nearly causing his death the next time he saw him.

Mac limped his way to the bar and poured himself three shots of whatever was in the first open bottle he saw - whiskey, coincidentally. He downed the first two and walked into the back room to find Frank’s laptop. He downed the third and made his way to a booth. Making a point not to look at anything on the screen and find any of the weird shit Frank uses his computer for, he opened the built-in disc tray and placed the CD he was carrying in it. The music started playing after a few concerning clicks and beeps rang out of the aging laptop. The first track of the mixtape he burned for Dennis and his car rides began to play. _Back in the High Life Again._ Mac fucking hated Steve Winwood. He turned the volume as loud as it could go, but the speakers weren’t strong.

Probably a full minute later, he noticed that he had sat the computer on top of something. He had downed those shots pretty quickly. Lifting the laptop with one hand, he grabbed the mystery item: a stack of envelopes held together with an elastic band. The one on the top said **"FRACK"** and Mac instantly recognized Charlie’s barely-legible handwriting. He quickly unbound the stack to look for his name.  
It was on the very bottom- that dick- but his name was the only one spelled correctly and a tiny bit of pride swelled his heart. The letter inside of his envelope was mostly nonsense drawings and combinations of letters that couldn't possibly mean anything. There was one significant thing he could make out, though: **"CAT <3 MAC 4EVR"**. Years ago he taught Charlie how to spell each of their names. His, M-A-C, and Charlie's C-A-T. It was a dumb prank if you could even call it that, but apparently, Charlie remembered it to this day. Apparently, Mac did too.  
He couldn't give less of a shit about the gibberish on Dee and Frank's letters, but he couldn't help but look at Dennis'. It's not like Dennis was ever going to see it. His had fewer drawings, less colour. It said **"HOP U HAV FUN"**  
Mac stared at the letters for a while, trying to think of why Charlie would bother writing them and leaving them there in the bar. He eventually decided that trying to understand what goes through Charlie’s mind is ultimately useless, and he was starting to feel tired and nauseous anyway. He laid his head down on the table, not caring that his ear was positioned directly beside the laptop’s speaker. As sleep crept up to him, he thought about Charlie’s note to Dennis. “Hope you have fun”, must have been referring to his move to North Dakota. He thought about what Dennis would be doing there now. Probably laying in bed, warm and comfortable next to a beautiful woman. Mac hoped instead he was exhausted, dealing with a crying baby in the middle of the night as he was being lectured by the mother of his bastard child. He hoped he was miserable enough to come back home.

He woke to the sound of his phone ringing- or more to the feeling of it vibrating in his pocket. He prepared to simply deny the call, slam the phone down and return to sleeping uncomfortably on a table until he looked and noticed his phone’s caller ID read “hospital”. He cleared his throat and answered the call with a tired, “Hello?”.  
A woman’s overly-polite voice came through the speaker. “Hello, sir. I am looking for a mister... Ronald Mcdonald?”  
Mac turned his head slightly so that his sigh wouldn’t blow directly into the microphone. “Speaking.”  
“I am sorry to call so late in the night, but you are listed as the primary emergency contact for Mr. Charles Kelly. He was in a car accident tonight.”  
“Oh, shit. Wait, I’m his emergency contact? What- whatever. What happened? How’s he doing?”  
“He is okay. He needs someone to take him home.”  
This time Mac did not turn his head when he let out a deep sigh.  
“Damn it, Charlie! The hell was he doing? God. Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”  
“Um, thank you, sir.”

He hung up the phone to call a cab to the hospital, shoved the letters into his duster’s pocket and left Paddy’s through the front door, leaving it unlocked since he didn’t have a key. He knew Dee would lecture him about it if she noticed, but he had other things on his mind. When the cab arrived and he told the driver where he was headed, the older man looked concerned.  
“Everything alright?” he asked.  
Mac leaned an elbow on the edge of the window and rest his chin in his hand. “Yeah. My dumbass friend listed me as his emergency contact without my consent. He probably just, like, stubbed his toe or something." He grumbled, contradicting the anxious pounding in his chest.

 

Mac entered the hospital and after some confusion, he found the nurse he spoke with on the phone who led him outside Charlie’s room.  
Charlie was eating Jell-O and had bandages covering various areas of his face. Before he could walk in, the nurse took Mac aside in the hallway and explained why Charlie was there.  
“We got a call at around one a.m. saying that he was driving under the influence and crashed a car into the wall of an alley. The caller said he was _covered in blood and dying_ , but when our paramedics arrived they decided it was not that severe. Mr. Kelly seems to have two fractured ribs from the impact of the crash, as well as a minor head injury, and some shallow wounds on his face and torso from the windshield's glass hitting him. The doctor will be with the two of you soon with some test results and some painkillers for Mr. Kelly to take if necessary when he goes home. He will need to rest as much as possible for the next few weeks, and the doctor will provide a note if needed to get him time off from work.”  
The nurse laid a lot of information on him very quickly, and the only thing Mac could register is that he was pissed at Charlie and he’s going to give him a few more broken bones when they leave this place.

When Charlie noticed Mac enter the room, his face seemed to go through many emotions at once. First, he looked surprised, then happy to see him, then afraid, and finally, he stuck with looking mildly uncomfortable. Mac stood above his bed staring at Charlie, who avoided eye contact. Mac cleared his throat loudly and asked,  
“So, why the fuck am I your primary emergency contact? Oh, and why were you driving a car drunk in an alley? It sounds like the time we tried to stage a fake suicide. You weren’t trying to kill yourself, were you? There are so many better ways to do that.”  
Charlie laid his head back with a groan and said, “Shut up, man. I don’t know.”  
“The hell kind of answer is that? I paid like forty bucks for a cab and I’m gonna have to do it again when we leave. I’m pretty pissed at you, dude. The least you could do is explain why I had to come here.”  
“I’m sorry, okay? I’ll change my contact. It used to be the waitress but she got all mad at me about it. I knew Dennis and Dee wouldn’t even bother showing up if something happened to me, so you seemed like the best option.”  
“What about Frank? He’s basically your dad, dude.”  
“Frank is not my dad.” Charlie snapped.  
Mac began pacing back and forth as he spoke. “You’re suddenly sure about that? Even if you’re not blood-related he’s the closest thing you’ve ever had to a father. He treats you more like a son than he does Dennis.”  
“Frank is not my dad. He’s not my dad, he’s made that very clear to me. He screamed it in my face.”  
“You guys had a fight?”  
“I guess, yeah.”  
“Well, if he’s not your dad that’s probably a good thing, but you’re family whether you like it or not. Weren’t you guys married?”  
“Could you just drop it, please? I’ll change the contact. I’ll make it my mom or something. You won’t have to help me next time.”  
“That’s not what I meant. Jesus. What do you mean ‘next time’? The hell’s going on with you, man?”

Before Charlie got a chance to answer, a doctor came into the room with test results and about a half hour of medical things to say to bore the two of them. After thirty-two minutes, the doctor told them they were free to leave and provided a wheelchair for Mac to wheel Charlie out in. After dealing with the financial side of the visit and demanding Frank pay him back, Mac called a cab for the third time that evening. When it arrived he helped Charlie into the car. The ride was dead silent after a polite greeting and a "Are you alright?" followed by Charlie mumbling.

Charlie was having a lot of trouble walking, even with Mac’s support, and when he slipped on the first step into the apartment building Mac caught him and picked him up princess-style. Charlie was too out of it to be embarrassed, and Mac was too proud to admit he was struggling to carry the weight.  
“Damn, dude, how much morphine did they give you?” Mac was losing his breath.  
“Not enough. Put me down, I can walk.”  
“You obviously can’t.”  
“I didn’t even want to come here. This is, like, kidnapping, isn’t it?”  
“Why would I kidnap you, Charlie? You didn’t protest on the way here, I assumed you wouldn’t want to see Frank right now.” Mac struggled to fish his keys out from his pocket while still holding Charlie as they approached his door. “Here, grab my keys from my front pocket and unlock my door for me.”  
“No, man, just let me down,” Charlie said, but still did as he was told. He was careful not to touch anything but his pocket as he grabbed the keys, and it took him three tries before successfully opening the door.  
“Have you never unlocked a door before?” Mac asked sarcastically as he adjusted his grip.  
“Obviously I’ve unlocked tons of doors. It’s just, me and Frank don’t lock up our apartment.”  
“How are you two even still alive?” Charlie rolled his eyes.

They made their way into the apartment and Mac dropped his friend onto the couch carelessly. The resulting whines were ignored as he went into a closet to take off his duster, grab some blankets and a pillow, and throw them in Charlie’s direction.  
“Get some sleep, buddy. I don’t even want to know what time it is right now.” Mac said as he walked to his bedroom and shut the door, leaving Charlie in the dark apartment alone. He arranged himself on the couch so he was not putting any pressure on his injuries and closed his eyes, mumbling to himself, _Kidnap me from the hospital and just tell me ‘get some sleep’? Asshole._  
Twenty minutes of tossing and turning went by before he finally called out, “Mac?”.  
He got a groan in reply and continued.  
“I can’t sleep alone.”  
“What?”  
“I usually sleep with Frank.”  
“Well, you’re not sleeping with me, dude,” Mac said, but Charlie was already opening his bedroom door and limping towards the bed. He sat down beside him and said, “You shared a bed with three other people for like a year, you won’t even notice me,” and Mac made no effort to protest further.

Mac drifted off and dreamed of him and Charlie as kids, throwing rocks at trains and hanging out in alleys. When he awoke he felt a wet spot on his pillow, a mix of tears and drool, but he felt happy. It may have been the first night in a while that he didn't dream of Dennis. When he went to sit up he found Charlie’s arms wrapped around him, and realized that the wet spot he woke up in was not on a pillow, but on Charlie’s chest. On his nightstand, he noticed his cell phone lit up and carefully moved to grab it to check the time, reading 1:35pm. He opened his texts, found Dee’s contact and sent: **ur on ur own at the bar tonight.** He continued checking social media and various games on his phone until about thirty minutes later when Dee responded: **???? Like fuck I am u guys better help me!!** Mac didn’t bother responding, knowing that she’ll probably show up at his door in a few hours and seeing Charlie will explain itself.

After about twenty more minutes of laying in bed, Mac moved Charlie's arm off of him to get up. He quickly fixed his appearance, gelling back his hair and brushing his teeth. Leaving Charlie to sleep in the apartment, he made his way to the nearby liquor store to buy beer for himself and his guest. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew Charlie should not be drinking in his current condition, but he figured being sober would only make both of them feel worse. Despite worrying about him, as he walked home he began dreading going back and dealing with Charlie. He’s not an idiot, he knows exactly what he was trying to do last night, and as always, Mac’s anger replaces his hurt and confusion so all he can feel is rage.

When Mac steps in the door he finds Charlie still in his bed, looking peaceful and relaxed, the exact opposite of him usually, and for a second Mac felt calm too. He quickly remembered how pissed he was though, and threw his keys (the only thing in his hands besides a case of glass bottles) at the lump in the sheets saying, “Wake up asshole. I got us drinks.”  
Charlie groaned and sat up, revealing his face with fresh-looking blood soaking several of his bandages.  
“Ew, dude, why are you bleeding?” Mac asks.  
“Is it bleeding? My face got super itchy.” Charlie pushed the blankets back and scratched at a bloody spot on his cheek.  
“Well stop scratching it, dumbass!” Mac walked over and swatted at his arm. “You’re gonna get blood on my sheets, dude, get up.”  
“It hurts,” Charlie whined as he stood.  
“No shit. God damnit, the nurse didn’t even tell me how to- to” Mac stammered and gestured wildly with his hands. “To _do_ all this, to _deal_ with this stuff.”  
Charlie went stiff when Mac grabbed the sides of his face and stared intently as he picked at one of the bandages.  
“These are all, like, fancy hospital bandages. Like gauze and shit. I don’t have all this. What even is that?” He pointed to a butterfly closure near Charlie's eye. “I don’t have that.”  
Mac continued to mumble and make loud groaning noises as he stomped towards the bathroom. Charlie started to follow him, but he spotted the beer sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, so he sat there instead. He heard Mac rustling in the bathroom, and then a loud crash, followed by him yelling, “Oh, great! Fucking great, this is great, Charlie. Dennis took our Band-aids. He really needed Band-aids on his trip. Great. We don’t even have some shitty little Band-aids for you! God, fucking Dennis, oh my god!”

Charlie remained silent and looked down, trying not to add any more fuel to Mac’s fire. He was scared to upset Mac further, but the case of beer was sitting in front of him on the coffee table, and he was thirsty and still in pain, so he cracked one open. Shortly after the sound of the beer opening echoed through the apartment, Mac emerged from the bathroom, red-faced and breathing heavy. He grabbed a beer and sat down beside his friend.

They sat silently on the couch drinking, both refusing to look at the other. Charlie finished his bottle first and as he reached for a second, the door swung open and a shrill voice yelled, “Mac!”  
Dee entered their line of sight as she continued talking. “Why the hell am I _on my own_ ” she motioned air-quotes with her fingers, “at the bar tonight? I-” She saw Charlie and her words were suddenly cut off. “What the hell happened to you? Jesus, you look like shit, are you alright?”  
“Wait, I assumed it was your car he crashed. How’d you get here?” Mac looked at Charlie. “Whose car did you crash?”  
Charlie’s mumbled response was barely audible, but Mac and Dee both heard, “Frank’s.”  
Mac snorted and Dee said, “That’s awesome. Great job Charlie.”  
Usually, praise from Dee and Mac would make Charlie smile and try to continue impressing them, but he didn’t have the energy. He hadn’t had the energy for a while. He closed his eyes and tried to drown out the loud chatter around him.  
“Well, this is why you’re on your own tonight.” Mac gestured to Charlie.  
“So he’s got a couple of scratches, big deal. He can still clean a goddamn toilet.” Dee snapped back.  
“His ribs are broken”  
“All of them?”  
“Enough of them.”  
“Well, why do you get to stay home? You look fine.”  
“I’m, like, looking after him? He needs me to stay with him.” Mac tried, and Charlie opened an eye to glance at him.  
“Mac, he’s an adult, he can look after himself. The bar can’t look after itself.” Dee reached for a beer and Mac swatted her hand away.  
“You can look after the bar. Or, y’know, just close it for the night.” Mac was starting to get annoyed again.  
“I can’t just close the bar on a Friday night, Frank would get pissed. Charlie already crashed his car, I don’t want to be there when he finally snaps.”  
“Frank can help you with the bar.”  
“Frank drives away the customers! Are you listening to me at all? God, I don’t have time for this, I had plans today.” Dee leaned down to glare at Mac and continued, “You’re coming to the bar tonight or I will fucking slaughter you. I’ll beat your ass to the ground, Mac. I’m not kidding.” She shoved her finger in Mac’s face and stared him down for a second before turning on her heel and walking out the door.  
“Damn, she’s annoying.” Mac threw his head back and sighed. “I’m not working tonight. I don’t even do anything. Dennis was the only one who ever helped her. She’s just pissed because he left, she can’t take that shit out on me.” Charlie rolled his eyes. He'd been rolling his eyes a lot lately.  
“Man, you’ve barely said a word today, what’s up?” Mac asked.  
“I’ve said words.”  
“Not many.” Mac sipped his beer and eyed Charlie, who did not respond.  
“Why’d you fight with Frank?” He tried.  
This caught Charlie off guard. “What? Nothing. No reason. No big deal.” He cleared his throat.  
“Charlie, you crashed his car. You barely resisted me not bringing you home last night. Not really like you, man.”  
There was a long pause and Mac worried that Charlie had stopped breathing. Mac wanted to tell him to hurry up, spit it out, but stopped himself. When Charlie finally spoke, it was sudden and louder than Mac expected.  
“I think Frank’s my dad”.  
Mac tried to be nice, he really did, but he couldn't resist spitting back, “No shit. Franks your dad? No way, dude. Woah. Frank?”  
Charlie slammed his beer on the table and stood to look down at him. “God, fuck you, man. Can you take me seriously for a fucking second? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not doin’ too good here.” He pointed to his head.  
Mac shook his head and put his hands up in surrender. “I know, I know. I’m sorry Charlie. It’s just- I’m trying to help you out, but you’re not giving me much to work with.”  
Charlie folded his arms. “I didn’t ask for your help.”  
Mac huffed, “Uh, yeah, you kind of did when you listed me as your emergency contact.”  
Charlie raised his voice. “Well, I didn’t plan to wake up in the hospital, Mac. I didn’t plan to wake up and see any of you again.”  
“Oh, so, you did try to kill yourself, then?” Mac stood and walked towards the closet. He pulled out the duster and got the envelopes from the bar out of the pocket and stepped towards Charlie, holding them out to him. “Were these your little suicide notes? This is what you were gonna leave us with?”  
“Oh, what the hell, Mac? You read those? You read everyone’s? That’s- That’s personal shit, man!” Charlie’s voice was strained and cracking.  
Mac let out a shaky laugh. “You know, if you didn’t want to see us you could’ve just left town like Dennis did. You just- you were just going to leave me behind with Frank and Dee? Fuck, I-”  
“Jesus, Mac this isn’t about you! This isn’t about you, this isn’t about Dennis. The world doesn’t revolve around you and Dennis.” Charlie began yelling. “Do you know how pathetic and shitty you sound right now? Like- like oh poor Mac, he has to tolerate Charlie and Frank and Dee because Dennis left him. Poor fucking Mac. I just tried to kill myself but poor little Mac.”  
Mac stood with his mouth open and brows together, trying to think of some way to defend himself, but nothing was coming to him. He finally managed to spit out, “Fuck you, man.”  
Charlie huffed and chugged the remainder of his beer. He turned and limped towards the door, ignoring Mac as he called to him, “You’re leaving? Where are you going to go, huh? You can’t even walk.” He continued rambling after he heard the door slam. "C'mon, Charlie," The letters fell to the floor as he held his head in his hands and groaned.

Mac spent the rest of the day sitting on his couch eating, drinking, crying, and watching _Predator._ He didn’t know where Charlie went. He didn’t know if Charlie was okay. He didn’t go into work, and he didn’t answer the phone any of the times Dee called him. He woke up the next afternoon from a dream about Dennis and immediately felt the pain of a headache he couldn’t even blame on a hangover. He checked his phone to find 6 voicemails from Dee, one from Frank, and one from an unknown number. He checked Frank's first.

“Hey, Mac. I called twice, where the hell are ya? Dee’s been bitchin’ at me all night.” Frank was talking too quickly for Mac to follow so shortly after waking up. “Anyway, have you seen Charlie? He left like two nights ago and I haven’t seen him. He was bitchin’ at me too, and I thought he left to blow off some steam but, uh, I’m gettin’ worried now. Call me if you know where he ran off to. Oh! It’s, uh, it’s Frank, by the way.”  
Mac rolled his eyes at the last line of the message but stared blankly at his phone before deleting it. He didn’t expect Frank to care that much that Charlie left. Maybe he was having trouble sleeping too.  
Mac chose to erase all of Dee’s messages without listening to them, then went to the unknown number’s message. It started with a lot of rustling sounds, then a harsh voice in the background yelling something that sounded like “Fuck off!” or “Back up!”. The voice came in clearer when it started speaking:

“Mac? Hello? Is this Mac? Oh-oh shit, is this a voicemail? Um...” The voice sounded familiar, but Mac couldn’t place his finger on who it could be. “Well, hey. I wanted to talk to Charlie but apparently, he doesn’t have a phone. I don’t blame him, I don’t want anybody spying on me either! This is a bum friend of mine’s shitty prepaid thing. Anyhoo, it’s Rickety Cricket calling. I found Charlie in a crashed car the other night and called an ambulance for him. I wanted to check in and see how he’s doin’. Every time I try to go to Paddy’s it’s closed. What’s up with that? I’ve got to shower sometime soon.”  
The message cut off suddenly there. Mac walked towards the bathroom as he wondered how the hell Cricket got his phone number.  
He stepped into the shower and tried to distract himself from the thousands of things running through his mind, but mostly failed. He wanted to see Charlie. He wanted to see Dennis. He kind of wanted to see Cricket, too, just out of curiosity. When he got out of the shower, he decided the best he could do at the moment was to go to the drugstore and buy new bandages for Charlie (and it’d be a good idea to have them around for himself too, just in case).

Mac dressed and walked to the nearby drugstore to buy a first-aid kit and every type of bandage he can find. From there, he went to the bar and found it closed. Luckily, this time he remembered to bring a key. He entered and began making himself a drink when he heard rustling sounds coming from the back office. He quickly found Charlie’s rat-bashing stick and tip-toed to the office door, thrusting it open while yelling, “Get your ass out of my bar!”, only to find a startled Frank struggling to reach the vent on the ceiling.  
“Frank?! What the hell-” Mac started before Frank interrupted him.  
“Mac! Mac, have you seen Charlie? I’m losing my damn mind, Mac. Where could he have gone off to? I was thinking he could be up in the vents. Help me up there, will ya?”  
“No, I’m not helping you, Frank. Charlie’s not in the goddamn vents.” Mac sighs, setting Charlie’s stick down, but pauses. “Well, he could be. Maybe he is. Maybe check just in case.”  
Mac grabbed a screwdriver and climbed a chair to open the vents. As he’s loosening the screws in the awkward silence he tries to make conversation. “Heard you got a new car.”  
“Charlie crashed it. Found it in the alley.”  
“You knew? And you’re not mad about that?”  
“Oh, I’m pissed. I’m gonna ring the bastard’s neck when I get him home.” Frank sighed, “I need him, Mac. I can’t sleep.”  
Mac boosted Frank up into the vents and wished him luck. He handed him a flashlight and told him, “Alright, Frank. I’m out, but if you find him, give me a call.”

Despite telling Frank he was leaving, Mac stays in the bar for a while. He wandered in and out of the bathrooms, the basement, the alley, all with no signs of his friend. His chest felt heavy as his stomach felt empty and he tried to soothe the discomfort with beer. He intended to leave before Dee came and made him work a shift with her, but he stayed drinking too late. Luckily, it was slow for a Saturday, even for Paddy's, so they closed at one and Mac asked Dee to drive him home.  
On their way to his apartment, Dee turned down the volume on the radio to ask, “Why was Charlie driving Frank’s car? Does he even have a license?”  
“No idea.” Mac stared out the window, annoyed at the interruption.  
“I think I’ve been a little worried about him.”  
“You think?”  
“Shut up. I don’t know. He’s hurt himself, we should be worried! You’re his friend, aren’t you?”  
“I didn’t say I wasn’t." Mac sighed, "I am. I’ve been worrying about Charlie for thirty goddamn years.”  
“We should look after him.”  
Mac snorted, remembering how just hours earlier she was demanding he work while injured but said nothing about it. Dee stopped the car outside his apartment and he left without saying another word. She scoffed and called to him, “Goodbye, asshole!” and drove off, much quicker and angrier than was safe.

Mac locked his door behind him and immediately face planted into his bed, clothes and all, but shockingly couldn't fall asleep. His mind flashed him images of the night Charlie crashed the car, blood covering every inch of Charlie's limp body, pouring out of his mouth and ears. The rational part of him knew it couldn't have been like that, but the terrified part of him showed more images of Charlie tonight, trapped under someone else's car, being beaten by Cricket's sketchy homeless friends, passed out under the bridge, jumping off of the bridge. Mac shot up out of bed and out the door, determined to not let any of that happen regardless of how mad he may be at the guy.  
The first problem he ran into was his lack of transportation, so he walked to Dee's and broke in. Dennis always kept a spare key to her apartment on his keychain, and he left it behind when he moved. He stepped inside, heard some concerned _"Hello?"_ 's coming from her room, ignored them, took her car keys and left. He took off towards the bridge to look for Charlie. Mac hated driving, Dennis had always driven. Admittedly, he's not all that good at it and he felt grateful for no one being on the roads this late at night. Without the distractions his brain wouldn't shut the fuck up, though, so he blasted the radio trying to drown it out.

No one but a homeless guy was at the bridge, and it wasn't Cricket, so he left.

He took off in the opposite direction, to his old neighbourhood. The familiar houses and landmarks made the emptiness in him transform into a different, but no less unpleasant feeling. Loneliness, longingness, he couldn't tell, he just hated it and drove a little faster. He could picture Charlie and him running through the alleys, away from angry men whose cars were ruined from rocks they threw. Little Mac would do some unpracticed karate kicks and assure little Charlie that he'd protect him. Little Charlie would laugh, but all Mac could hear was adult Charlie's sigh. He wanted to turn around. Charlie wouldn't want to see him anyway, he thought. He'd upset him further, make things worse as he always does when Dennis gets like this. But he kept driving because at least Charlie was still in Philadelphia. 

When he arrived at Charlie's mum's house, the one his friend grew up in, he didn't dare knock on the door and wake the insane mother. He didn't even feel like seeing his own. He went around to the back and broke into Charlie's childhood bedroom window like he always did when they were young. He didn't fall this time, but Charlie wasn't there anyway. He slowly climbed back out and down, feeling worse than ever.

The aching in his chest grew stronger as he looked out at the train tracks down the road from Charlie's mother's house. He could almost see the two of them as kids throwing rocks as the train came by, could hear the rumbling of the engine and the kids' piercing giggles, all pulling him towards the tracks step by step. He wished they were never those kids, never had to go through what they would soon. But all of those things, the memories and the emotions attached to them, all brought him here, where he stood with Charlie, present Charlie, sitting on the edge of the train tracks, gazing up at him.

He sat down beside his friend, ignoring the discomfort of the metal under his ass and the urge to tackle Charlie in a hug. Charlie said nothing, just continued to stare. He still hadn't changed the bandages on his face, the dried blood turned into a rust brown. It was gross. Mac looked away.  
"I picked you up some bandaids and stuff." He leaned back on his hands and sighed, desperate to make the situation less awkward. "I'm sorry about all that... shit,"  
When Charlie had no response, he tried again.  
"No, I mean, listen," He bounced his knee as he chose his words carefully. "I'm genuinely sorry about how that all went down, and I'm sorry you're all fucked up about whatever with Frank. We don't really say shit like this, you know, but I care about you, I _love_ you, and I don't want you to like, die. I mean it."  
There was a moment of silence before Charlie found a response. "Thanks, man," He cleared his throat. "I'm just all messed up right now. We'll figure things out."  
"Me too, yeah."  
Charlie almost laughed. "It was pretty stupid to try and die, y'know. I don't know why I did it."  
"Do you wanna... talk about it? Talk about what happened?"  
Charlie took a deep, though shaky, breath. "I've been thinking a lot about when we were kids. Part of me keeps wishing I was little again, till I remember how shitty that was. But now isn't all that good either. I was thinking, y'know, it'll never be good. Never was."  
"Well, that's not true." Mac stopped him.  
"No. But isn't it, though?"  
"It's good all the time. It was good when we threw rocks at trains," Mac patted the tracks under them, "And we can do that whenever you want, buddy."  
Charlie smiled. "That's good. I guess day-to-day is pretty easy. Living with Frank's pretty good, actually. I don't know why I keep thinking that him being my dad would make me feel better. Wouldn't change much."  
"You'll never have a dad," Mac started, and Charlie's smile dropped in an instant, "But you're fine without one. I really think so. Frank's that sort of figure and putting a name to it would be nice, but even Dennis and Dee rejected the term 'dad' pretty quick. Maybe it wouldn't be that good." He wrapped an arm around Charlie. "No one was there to protect you as a kid, to provide all that fatherly shit. But you got me. You did then and you do now, and you've even got Frank now, for whatever that's worth."  
Charlie returned the half-hug gesture and his smile returned. "Thanks, buddy. Same here. You've got me."

They picked up some stones to throw, but no trains went by, so they just competed to see who could throw further. Mac won. Eventually, they got up and made their way towards where Dee's car ended up being parked. Charlie asked to be dropped off at his and Frank's apartment, and Mac was a bit disappointed. He didn't bother bringing Dee's car back to her, almost afraid of that lonely walk home.

 

He woke several hours later to the feeling of movement under his blankets.  
“What the hell?!” Mac yelped and sat upright, his hands thrown up into fists, ready to fight.  
The lump moving in the blankets settled down and a hand peeked out of the sheets to pat Mac's lap. He went rigid at the touch before the lump spoke. “Shh, shut up. It’s me. Lay down.” He instantly recognized the voice and calmed.  
“Charlie?” Mac breathed out, “Charlie, what the fuck? Why are you in my- what the hell,” He sat back and pulled the blankets off of Charlie's face. Big eyes blinked up at him, and Mac noticed he still hasn't changed the bandages.  
After several moments, when he relaxed enough to speak, he asked: "Did you work shit out with Frank?"  
Charlie sat up. "We talked, yeah. We're good."  
"That's good," Mac said, but he didn't really believe him. It'd been such a long day, they can save that conversation for the morning.  
"I'm gonna fix your face." Mac decided.  
"Huh?" Charlie asked sleepily. "What's wrong with my face?"  
"What's wrong with your- It's scratched up to shit, Charlie. It's all bloody."  
"It's not even bleeding, it's dry. It's been dry."  
"That is exactly what I mean." Mac got up and went to grab the shopping bag he got earlier. When he returned, Charlie sat up, seemingly making peace with what was happening. Mac sat close to him, close enough to touch but not to crowd. He started ripping open bandage packages haphazardly, grabbing each type and comparing them to the various shapes on Charlie's face. He picked out what he decided was right and set them aside.  
"This is gonna hurt, alright?" Mac readied his hands to rip off a bandage on Charlie's cheek, right above his beard. "Don't be a pussy about it."  
"I'm not a-agh!" The bandage ripped away some hair and pulled against the gash in his skin. "Jesus, Mac!"  
"Warned you." He discarded the bloody fabric in the garbage beside his bed. After unpackaging the replacement, he gently pressed it to the tender skin and continued to ignore Charlie's whining.  
He stared blankly at his work for a moment and before Charlie could question what the hell he was looking at, Mac leaned in and touched his lips to the fabric. Charlie whispered an involuntary "Oh!" and said nothing else.  
Mac cleared his throat and continued dressing Charlie's face. When he came to the worst of the bunch, he made sure he was extra gentle.  
"I'm gonna- uh, again, okay?" Mac stuttered, and despite saying pretty much nothing, Charlie understood and nodded.  
Mac leaned in and pressed another feather-light kiss to the wound. He pulled back and caught Charlie's eyes, the slight glossiness from the pain pulling at his heart until Charlie nodded again, and he moved his lips down to meet his. He felt safe to use more pressure here, while being mindful of what Charlie needed in the moment. When he pulled back, Charlie smiled.  
"What?"  
"Nothing. Weird." Charlie laughed.  
"Weird? What do you mean? What was wrong with it?"  
"Nothing, it was fine. I'm just saying, it's weird."  
"To kiss?"  
"For us to."  
Mac thought about it for a second, and figured he had a point. It's not like this is something bros just _do_ , but it felt natural anyway. Not particularly romantic, but comforting and nice. He laughed too and leaned in again. It wasn't so comfortable this time, they struggled to keep their laughing mouths shut.

Charlie yawned, and Mac decided they should probably stop kissing before it gets _weird_ weird. He shoved all the bandage boxes and wrappers off the bed and laid down, arms open and waiting for Charlie to fall into them. They rested in comfortable silence and Mac began falling asleep hugging Charlie, careful not to hurt any injuries.

**Author's Note:**

> the whole car crash thing is a reference to season 4 (mac & charlie die pt 1), the "cat <3 mac" thing is from the sunny book ( i havent read it i just saw that page online so let me know if im getting it wrong somehow) and the vents scene is from s3 (the gang gets held hostage)


End file.
